Green Eyed Beast
by MrWriterWriter
Summary: James and Sirius decide just trusting Dumbledore has its own flaws, so they decide to give Harry an edge up on the matter. The Hogwarts motto has never been more accurate. Parings to be determined. Rating may go up
1. Chapter 1

"Oi, James! Hurry up and unlock the door, it's colder than a hag's teat out here!" The voice of one Sirius Black called outside the front door of James and Lily Potter's current residence.

"First off, thanks oh so much for the nightmares I'm going to have now, Black." James open the door, letting his closest friend inside. "Second, did you get it?"

Sirius pretended to be affronted. "Come on, James. What do you take me for, my mother? May she rot." He promptly took out a small box from his coat. It wasn't much bigger than a card deck, but the sight made James sigh in relief. "Where's Lils?"

"She's taking a nap with Harry right now." He replied, motioning for him to come on. "Quick, let's get this with the rest of the stuff."

"Remind me again why we aren't telling the others about this?" Sirius asked as he followed James down the hall to the basement door. "We both know that Moony'd help in a heartbeat."

"True, but he'd also tell Lily, and I'd rather not worry her about this. After all,this ritual isn't something you talk about in polite company. But if it'll stack the deck in my son's favor…"

"I know." Sirius barked out a laugh. "Hell, you'd go moon the whole Wizengamot if it'd give him an edge, with me getting cheeky right beside you. And Dumbledore?" He saw James tense a little at the name.

"That...that's kind of hard to explain. I know the old man wants to stop You-Know-Who just as much as we do, if not more. But, there's a lot that doesn't add up." Entering the basement, they headed to what appeared to be a storage closet in the back. "He warned us about this prophecy, but why does he seem so sure that it involves Harry or Neville? What if it's someone from somewhere else in Europe, or America?"

Sirius frowned; the man had a point. There were bound to be others who fit the criteria, aside from the Potters and Longbottoms. Why Dumbledore focused on just those two families eluded him.

"Also...and don't get me wrong; I have nothing personal against Dumbledore, but as personable as he is, his concerns are never personal." James sighed. "Every time we've talked to him, it's been about the safety of 'the wizarding world' or how something had to be done for 'the greater good'."

"Well, he has a point, Prongs." Sirius responded as they entered the closet, showing it to have been magically expanded into a room that now had several boxes and containers stored inside. An elaborate-looking array of runes, sigils, and symbols was etched into the stone floor. "Voldemort's already done a lot of damage, not to mention all the people he's had killed, Magical and Muggle."

"That's just it, Padfoot! His plans seem more about what he thinks is best for the Wizarding World, instead of the people themselves. I get the whole 'needs of the many', but I'm worried that he's forgotten that the 'needs of the few' is just as important. And as a father, Harry is the 'few' I'm mainly worried about specifically. From a commander, or general's point of view, I can see that making sense in a way...but to a parent?" He just shook his head.

"Well, when you put it that way." Sirius set the box on the floor and tapped it with his wand, canceling the shrinking charm and reverting it back to trunk size.

James whistled when he saw the contents, taking out a large jar holding what looked like dried beef, along with a long shard of bone.. "Wow, you got quite the haul this time." He said, looking at another jar that had a thick blackish-green liquid in it.

"Got lucky and found it already dead, not far from Dublin. Was a bitch to get the bits that weren't rotted, or already been nibbled on by scavengers."

He sat the jar down and looked at the other containers. "Well, I think that's enough. Ready, Pad?"

"I think so, but how are you going to get Harry if Lily's…"

"I slipped a dreamless sleep potion in her tea. She'll be sound asleep until morning." James didn't even have to turn to feel the look of disapproval he was getting from his brother in all but blood.

"Really, Prongs?"

"You want to tell her we're about to use a somewhat less than socially acceptable and possibly borderline illegal ritual on Harry, even though it's to help him out, and that we've been prepping it without her knowing?"

Sirius paused for a moment. "Right. Sooo...I'll get things ready here while you get him, then?"

* * *

A few minutes later, James returned with Harry in his arms. "Got everything, Pad?"

"Almost." Sirius finished pouring the last of a smoky red fluid into a set of interconnected divots that ran through the array. More bone shards, like the one James picked up earlier, lined the innermost circle, surrounding an unrolled length of dark green/black material All around were jars, bottles, and small boxes, all opened and releasing a strange, meaty scent into the room.

"Ok, looks good." He gently placed his son on the material. "This won't take long, Son. When we're done, you're gonna feel like a new man...or boy, in this case."

Harry just gurgled and watched.

Standing outside the array on either side of him, they both began reciting something in Latin, with a smattering of Greek. As they chanted, the array began to glow, followed soon by the liquid, then the bone, material Harry lay on, and contents of the jars.

* * *

A hour or so later, the few people who were still outside could swear they felt the ground rumble slightly

* * *

"*cough* That was new." A disheveled Sirius coughed as he and James, again carrying Harry, stumbled out of the now smoke-filled room, brushing plaster and bits of powdered...something out of his hair. "Was the array _supposed_ to blow up like that after we were done?"

"No idea. Heck of a light show, though!" James laughed, coughed, then laughed again, wiping some soot off Harry's face.

"That I can't deny. Hurry and get him back with Lily so we can clean this up."

* * *

The next few days went by without much ado, and James was thankful that Lily never seemed to suspect anything, aside from noting Harry seemed to be teething a little earlier than they expected..

Though he did forget that she was still nursing. He had to admit, that was one of the most impressive screams he ever heard, and it was VERY hard not to giggle at the bandaid. But life in the Potter home went on.

Then October Thirty-First arrived…

'_Pettigrew, you bastard!' _Lily thought as she rushed upstairs to get Harry. She cursed the rat-faced man with each step. They had just agreed to swap secret-keepers that very morning, thinking Sirius would be the obvious one while Peter stayed safe. No sooner did they do it, than the traitor vanished the rest of the day. Now Voldemort was right on their doorstep! '_James, Remus, and Sirius trusted you! I trusted you!'_ Finally reaching her child's bedroom, she barely had time to close the door when the hiss of 'Avada Kedavra!' reached her ears. "James…" Fighting back tears, she quickly made her way to the crib. In it, Harry was quietly sitting there, looking up at her with something akin to mild curiosity. "It's ok, Sweetie. Mommy's here."

"A touching scene." A voice called out, slightly mocking in tone. Lily whirled around to see Voldemort stepping into the room. "Step aside and you may live, woman." He ordered, his wand trained on her.

"No, not Harry." She quickly moved between him and her son.

Voldemort sneered. "How...noble. I said move aside."

"Over my dead body, you scaled son of a-!"

Unknown to her, Harry had heard the words downstairs, the same words the ugly man just said that made Momma fall to the floor, along with a green flash of light. And from how sad she was before, he'd done the same thing to Daddy. The ugly man had hurt his parents.

And Harry did not like it. He watched the ugly man step over Momma, who wasn't moving, and look down at him.

Voldemort snorted. "So, you're the one that's 'destined' to defeat me?" He looked at the child for a second. He was unsure why, but the way the brat was looking at him…if he didn't know any better, he could swear he was being SNARLED at...by a one-year old.

He quickly shook it off. "A child bringing about _my_ downfall, what rubbish. Still, I did come here for a reason. Avada Kedavr-AHHHHHH!"

In his life, Tom Marvolo Riddle, AKA 'Lord Voldemort', had prepared for many things, old age, the chance that he'd run into someone possibly stronger than him, even the risk of betrayal by his followers.

Having a toddler lunge at him like some unholy beast was not one of them.

* * *

"Dear Merlin…" Hagrid stared in shock at the rubble that used to the Potters' home. "James, Lily..." He wiped his eyes as he gingerly made his way through the wreckage. There barely seemed to be a chunk bigger than his forearm. A good bit of the building looked like it'd been just wiped from existence. And there was no sign of any bodies.

Until he pushed aside a pile of broken wood and was greeted to the sight of Harry Potter, sitting on top of a tattered black robe. He could hardly believe his eyes, aside from an odd-shaped mark on his forehead, the boy was unhurt. Actually he looked proud of himself for some reason. "Harry! Thank the stars!" He quickly went over to him, laughing lightly. "What're you doing down there" He faltered a bit when he saw Harry's face as the boy smiled. "...and why's there a feather up your nose...and wood in yer teeth...are you even old enough to have teeth?"

"*T-pewie!*"

"Whats...oh…" The half-giant turned slightly green when he saw the finger Harry just spat out. "Ahh, maybe we better keep this between us for now, eh?"

Harry's smile widened.

* * *

Pain. That was all the fragment felt as it was ripped away from its main body. It knew it couldn't survive long on its own, but there was a viable vessel. The brat would be its new body! Once it took over, it could start searching for the rest.

Without wasting a moment, it dove into the mark, where it felt the best possible access. On entry, though, it realized it was not alone; something was already in there. Something that quickly made it known that the fragments presence wouldn't be tolerated.

The last thing the fragment of soul detected, before it was violently rent asunder, was the flicker of two green eyes, and lots of sharp teeth.


	2. Chapter 2

By definition, 'normal' is conforming to a standard, or the expected state of things.

It's also what Vernon and Petunia Dursley insisted that they were. There was nothing odd, strange, or unusual about them whatsoever. Except, there a certain member of the household who was a constant threat to that image.

His name was Harry James Potter, the son of Petunia's sister, Lily. Unfortunately, while the Dursley's had a son who they coddled and spoiled immensely; they barely acknowledged Harry's existence when they could, referring to him as 'boy' at best.

And that was fine with him, as far as he was concerned. To be honest, he considered them as people he was sadly stuck with until he had the means to get out. And frankly, he was well aware that he wasn't 'normal'. By their standards, at least.

He'd known ever since he bit the ugly man when he pointed that stick at him and started saying the same two words that caused his parents to die. He didn't know why the man had blown up after Harry bit the stick, taking a finger in the process, or why it blew his house apart, but he did.

Served him right, though

For one thing, as he got older, he found that he was a lot bigger than other kids his age. At ten, he was good foot taller and twice as heavy. Thankfully, compared to 'dear' Cousin Dudley...who was built like a four foot tall bean bag chair, Harry was five-six and a hundred and sixty pounds of muscle.

He thought it was funny when, after the school forced Vernon to take him to the doctor for shots, the doctor was befuddled - and possibly a little jealous, if the look on his face had been any indication - at how he had only had half a percent of bodyfat, much less how hard it was to get the needle in, thanks to Harry having more of a hide than skin. The doctor had noted that it felt far tougher and thicker than human skin should really be. He must have broken at least three needles on Harry's shoulder before he finally made it.

Thankfully, that plus the muscle also equaled that he was considerably tougher and stronger than...well, a few adults, actually. Marge, a hateful old cow who looked down on Harry even worse than the Dursleys, once made the mistake of trying to hit him with her cane during Dudley's fifth birthday party to keep him from winning a game of Musical Statues. The look on her face when she ended up just breaking it across his shins still made him laugh.

That was also when he developed his 'three strikes' rule; the offender had two chances to realize their idiocy, then he would inflict pain. Dudley's friend Piers Polkiss, or as Hary tended to call him, Ratboy (he didn't know why no one else noticed, but the boy stank...like old socks and sour milk), had gone through that more than once.

You'd think getting knocked unconscious and losing at least three teeth would be enough to make him rethink his interest in provoking Harry. At least Marge still had one more strike to go before he followed through with it.

Of course, since Dudley was about as smart; after the party was over, he tried (key word) to beat Harry up for beating him at the game. All it got him was sore hands for the rest of the day and a warning that it was one for him as well as his aunt.

Unfortunately, like Piers, Dudley seemed to constantly forget. It was one particular morning that showed how easily that happened. He was woken up early one morning by heavy, and annoyingly deliberate stomps up and down the stairs, which happened to be right above the cupboard he dwelled in. Even in the pitch black of the small area, he had no problem watching the dust and spiders being dislodged above him. He scowled as the fat twit shifted to jumping on the steps right above him.

And then growled.

Dudley smirked as he ran up and down the stairs above the 'room', he knew Mummy and Daddy would never punish him, so he decided to make his freak of a cousin miserable.

However, that plan came to a sudden, and rather scary end, when a growl rumbled from the cupboard, making the step vibrate slightly as it resonated, followed by a less-than-pleased tone.

"**Dudley**."

The boy stopped dead. Shaking, he gulped and hurried down. Just in time to see the padlock on the door undo itself. No matter what kind of lock his Dad used, bolts, combination locks, even chaining it, the door would open whenever his cousin wanted. Dudley backed up as it opened and Harry looked out, his glowing, green-eyed glare the only thing visible despite the lack of anything available to cast a proper shadow. He whimpered when he saw him hold up two fingers, tipped by claw-like nails.

"That's two, Dudley." Harry said, his voice far deeper than any ten year old had a right to. "Remember what happened last time?"

He nodded so fast, the second chin he was already developing wobbled.

"Then why do you insist on constantly demonstrating the opposite?" Stepping out of his lair, as he preferred to call it, he showed how easily he could loom over his cousin. The lights behind him flickered as if a storm was advancing, a low growl echoed around them like the roll of thunder. "Again, that's your second strike, Dudley. Are you that eager to have your parents pay another doctor bill? Sometimes I wonder why I even bother, though, since you tend to forget that faster than your multiplication tables."

"I-I'm sorry...!" He managed to squeak out, folding up on himself.

A somewhat foul odor hit Harry's nose shortly after, forcing him to fight the urge to gag. "Ugh...fine. I'm more than likely going to regret this before the day is out, but it is your birthday today." He looked his cousin dead in the eye, he didn't really enjoy the overweight twit's presence all that much, but he wasn't cruel. "But, ONLY because of that. Go change before your pong starts lingering."

Not needing to be told twice, he bolted back upstairs, holding on to his backside. Harry just sighed and yawned, stretching now that he was fully awake. Soon a more pleasant scent reached him, once he recognized instantly. Petunia always cooked two or three pounds of bacon on Dudley's birthday.

"What've you done with my son, boy!?" Vernon snapped, glaring at Harry like he could make him back down from intimidation. He must've heard it but was too lazy to come in himself.

"I informed him that he's on strike two again for his stunt on the stairs." Harry rolled his eyes at the massive pile of gifts on the table. He mentally guessed that less than half of those presents would last a week before Dudley broke or got bored with them. "Just like you still are." He added, looking Vernon in the eye with the exact same glare.

It was no secret in the house that Harry had little to no fear of his older relatives. Vernon learned that when Harry first found himself at the Dursley house after the ugly man's explosion. He'd snarled at Dudley when he started pinching and poking him, and the man tried to hit him for it.

Fat bastard nearly lost _two_ fingers in return. Like Dudley, he'd tried 'punishing' him after the party with a belt. However, it didn't hurt thanks to his hide, regardless of how hard the fat man tried to swing. It did make Harry mad though, and he let his 'uncle' know.

He'd never expected to see a grown man shit himself so utterly. Needless to say, Vernon hated him. And the feeling was mutual. Petunia wasn't fond of him as well. However, she seemed more worried about what the rest of the neighborhood would think if they did kick him out. That or reluctant to cause a scene.

Either way, she just tended to glare at him and demonstrate her own dislike by coddling Dudley in front of him. "As _extravagant_ as this little event looks to be, I'll pass." Harry made his way to the back door, snatching a handful of cooked rashers on his way.

"Where do you think you're going!?" Vernon's jowls tensed up as he scowled at the boy. "Put that back or I'll-!"

Harry cut him off. "What? Make me sit and watch as your son throws another temper tantrum after he learns he's got two less presents than last year? I can think of stuff a lot more entertaining, Vernon." He ignored the angered sputtering and headed out, savoring his purloined treat.


	3. Chapter 3

"What is it about swiping bacon that makes it taste even better?" Harry asked himself as he picked a small bit out of his teeth. Maybe it was just the satisfaction of knowing he'd be away from the Dursleys for the day. After Dudley unwrapped his loot, they always had a family outing to somewhere.

For some reason, just the idea of going to the zoo left a bad taste in his mouth. So, he was rather grateful at the idea of them leaving him behind. Besides, he could get back inside without much fuss. As he headed down the street, faint giggling across the street caught his attention. That was another bonus from whatever had caused him to be like he was; like his vision, his hearing and smell were a lot more sensitive than normal.

So he didn't have much trouble hearing the two girls across the street. What he found odd, though was that a cursory glance over to them indicated they were giggling while looking his way. Between the Dursleys telling most of the neighborhood that he was a troublemaker, and his habit of not mincing words, he was seen as something of a cold, unfriendly person by most. Which is why he was somewhat perplexed by the fact that a group of girls on Privet Drive and at school seemed to act giggly, and blushing when he was near.

Or the fact that that seemed to infuriate Dudley and his gang. He'd caught them more than once threatening some girls, especially ones younger and smaller than them, to stop doing whatever they were doing 'or else'. He honestly wondered about their intellect sometimes. Either way, the girls within a year or two of his age, and a couple of younger ones, acted very oddly around him. He'd been referred to as 'tough', or 'rebellious', but failed to see what those had to do with anything.

He was brought out of his current train of thought by a couple of meows behind him. It was a couple of cats belonging to Mrs. Figg, a somewhat odd woman who lived nearby and owned more than a few cats. While he had nothing personal against her, he'd never enter her house if he could due to the painfully strong smell of cabbage and cat urine. The cats, however, seemed to love him; sitting down in her house inevitably resulted in him hidden under a pile of purring felines. It didn't take him long to recognize the two as Tigglesworth and Miss Brumble.

"If it's your noses you're following, then you're too late. I've already eaten the bacon." He showed them the empty and still slightly greasy fingers. They meowed, but seemed content to just follow him, tails sticking straight up. He just shrugged. "All right. Don't blame me if Figg gets annoyed with you." Making his way down the street, he continued until it came to a dead end and turned off into a small, unpaved path. Figg's cats had gotten bored and headed home by then, so he was alone again. The path itself went on until he managed to find a small batch of trees growing in the remains of an old house.

He'd found the place on one of his earlier walks around the neighborhood. It must've been made some kind of historic spot because there were lingering signs of construction nearby. Harry found it amusing that the few denizens of Privet Drive that knew about this place considered it an eyesore even though it was out of street view. He liked it because it was quiet, relaxing…

"Ssspeaker."

"Hey, Boss."

...and had occupants he could have a decent conversation with. Harry had found out, when he finally learned to speak, that he could talk to snakes just as easily as humans. And lizards...turtles, reptiles in general, actually. He looked at the small garden snake and lizard that had emerged from behind one of the small bushes.

"Hey guys. Anything new going on?"

The lizard gave what seemed to be a shrug. "Had a big dog run through the other day, but nothing much else."

"Exssssept..."

"EVERYTHING SMELLS LIKE YELLOW!" Another lizard came scurrying out from the same bush, charging right over the snake.

Harry watched as it started spinning around before clamping down on its own tail. "He hate another one of those yellow and orange beetle, didn't he?"

The first one hesitated for a second. "...yeah."

"I TASTE LIKE A FLAVOR!" It was now gnawing on its own tail. Harry was certain that, if it was physically capable, it would probably have a demented grin right now.

The snake gave its version of a huff. "_I_ told him not to, but…"

"Oh, you liar!" The first lizard retorted. "You were laughing your cloaca off the last time!"

Granted, they weren't always the best conversationalists, but it was never really boring.

Taking a seat near the arguing pair, he quietly focused on some of the odd little bits and pieces of info that had been shoved in his head how. It was just a short while after the ugly man blew up. He was being taken out of what was left the house by a guy who looked like he could toss Vernon like a rugby ball. During this, he started getting these weird pieces of information about stuff like pulling or pushing things without touching them, cutting something from a distance, or even making it change into something else. He'd found out that with a little concentration, focusing on his intent, he could get those result. He hadn't really achieved much, but it was better than nothing.

His current target was a small branch. Taking a deep breath, he pointed at it and pictured a section being sliced right off. A faint sensation sparked inside him, and a smile appeared on his face. Whenever that feeling came, he knew that it was going to happen. "Cut!" He ordered in a whisper. There was a faint 'click', and a five inch segment of branch fell to the ground.

"Hey, you're getting better at that." The first lizard piped up. "Looked a little faster from last time."

"A little." Harry picked it and ran his thumb over the cut. It was almost glass smooth. "I'm definitely improving, at least." There were a few other things he'd seen as well, but they looked a bit too cruel for his taste. Seriously, who wants to make a person turn inside out? That's disgusting!

* * *

In the days following, things went back to their usual routine. While he refused to let them use him as an indentured servant, Harry did a share of the chores. Dudley (at Vernon's coaching, most likely) had tried to sabotage him on more than one occasion, and gotten slapped for his troubles. That came to something of an end when they announced the boy would be heading to Smeltings, Vernons old 'alma mater'. He nearly hurt himself laughing at the maroon and orange uniform the school had, thinking he looked like a giant tangerine. Of course, he made sure Dudley knew he'd be eating that stick the first time he swung at him

Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall high. "They stuff new students' heads in the toilet on the first day at Stonewall." Dudley smiled nastily as he said this. "You should practice for it."

"Good idea." The boy froze when Harry grabbed the back of his neck. "You first. Hopefully the toilet won't get sick from you." He let him go when he fainted at the foot of the steps.

He didn't really mind the grey uniform there, but it spoke volumes at how cheap his relatives were when he found Petunia dying some of Dudley's old clothes. Ones he knew he'd probably have to alter some. Despite his cousin's girth, his clothes were always in need of altering in some manner to make them comfortable. Ripping open the collar and/or removing the sleeves usually worked.

The next day, everyone was having breakfast when they heard the sound of the mailman making a delivery.

"Get the mail, Dudley." Vernon said.

"Make Harry get it." Dudley whined through a mouthful of sausages.

"He told you, now get going." Harry replied, staring at him when he started raising his stick. "Really?"

Sulking, Dudley stomped out of the kitchen, hitting everything with his stick on the way. There was a couple of minutes of silence before they heard him yell. "Dad, Harry got a letter!"

"What?" Vernon shouted back between eggs.

There was loud thumps as Dudley, surprisingly, showed he could run, waving a small envelope in his hand. "He's got a letter!" He pointed at Harry, who pulled it out of his grip.

He gave it a look over, surprised at the fact that he'd actually gotten something. It didn't feel like regular paper, and the address was bizarre for lack of a better term.

Mr.

The Cupboard Under The Stairs.

4,Little Whinging,

Surrey

"That's...specific." He said. He flipped it over to open when He caught Vernon, his face a mix of terror and anger, lunging for it. "**Back off!**" He snarled, showing a full set of fangs at the fat man.

*riiip!*

Unfortunately, he'd managed to get hold of part of the letter before he recoiled from Harry's teeth, and tore away a good portion, rendering Harry's half unreadable.

All three Dursley's looking on in silence, Harry stared emotionlessly at the torn remains of his first actual piece of mail. Thanks to his fat bastard of an uncle, though, he'd never know what it said. "Um, p-perhaps it's time we got you out of that cupboard, boy. Dudley, start moving your things out of the spare bedroom, and…"

Harry slowly turned to face him. "No thanks." His voice shifted to its lower timbre. "**And Vernon, that's three.**"

"That's wha-" He didn't get to finish before his nose and Harry's fist became well-acquainted.


	4. Chapter 4

Vernon let out something between a growl and a whine as he fervently hammered the mail slot shut, every so often reaching to scratch an itchy bandage on the nose his wife's cursed nephew had broken a couple of days ago. God, how he hated that boy; if it wasn't for Petunia's bleeding heart, he would've left him on a curb somewhere the moment they found him.

Now they were being harassed by the rest of his damned kind! They'd already found more of those letters in the milkman's recent delivery, and in the eggs they'd just recently purchased! He just counted it fortunate the little menace hadn't found out about them; they had agreed that they'd stamp that nonsense out of him.

Unfortunately for Vernon, that bit of luck wasn't going to stick around.

* * *

"Ah, what a peaceful Sunday." He laughed, looking so chipper, it concerned Petunia and Dudley a little.

Harry just gave him a gimlet eye while jabbing Dudley with his fork when he tried to steal the sausages off his plate. While it didn't really concern him, he was a little curious about why the man wasn't complaining about something like he usually did Sunday mornings.

"You know why?" He cackled like an idiot. "No mail on Sunday! Nothing! Not a damn note!"

Petunia looked like she was about to reprimand him for something when a sudden rustling noise came from the kitchen chimney. The Dursleys barely had time to face it when a virtual blizzard of paper erupted from it, pelting all four of the room's occupants with letters.

Now, Harry was used to several things; talking to reptiles, Figg's cats always flocking to him, Vernon's unmitigated dislike of him...this, on the other had, was new to him. With a shout of surprise, he jumped back from the flurry of paper. As he did, though, he felt the same force that let him push, pull, and cut from a distance kick in.

This time though, it caused a handful of sparks to shoot up from somewhere. Sparks that, unfortunately, hit a few of the papers and set them alight. After that, it was a bit of a blur between screaming, Petunia and Vernon swatting at the burning letters with tea towels, and Harry finding himself being pulled away from the ensuing chaos.

11111111~~~~

"Dudley Winthorpe Dursley! What the hell were you thinking!?" Vernon's voice cut in, bringing Harry to reality. "He's responsible for all this; why'd you bother helping him!?"

He scowled a little. '_Well screw you too, fatso! I was caught offguard about all that as well!'_

"I dunno, I just did!" Dudley replied, shrugging helplessly. From the look on his face, he honestly wasn't sure why he did what he did, either.

"We will be having words later, young man!" Vernon frowned, before yelping when another letter spun past, taking a bit of his mustache with it. "Pack up! Everyone, pack up, no more than one bag!"

While the three of them charged upstairs to pack, Harry went back to his lair and grabbed a small canvas bag he kept stashed behind an empty box of rat poison. In it was a small collection of items that he considered as 'his', things he'd found over the years that just seemed to call to him; a couple small metal figurines of what looked like fighters, a pristine, gold-colored marble, various pound notes he'd picked up, totaling around thirty quid, an old-looking copper coin with 'nut' spelled oddly on it, and the feather from the ugly guy's stick. He had no idea why a feather had been in the stick, but it was his now.

He made sure everything was in it before heading to the car and waiting for the Dursleys.

Once they had all gotten in the car (after Dudley got slapped for trying to pack his tv, computer, and game player), they were soon on a twisty, windy route. Every now and then, Harry could hear Vernon ramble about someone expecting them to take a turn, or how 'they could be watching them right now.'

After spending the night at a musty old hotel - that put Harry in a bad mood due to the smell of the place actually making his nose hurt -, and their attempt at 'breakfast' being interrupted by an employee mentioning them having more letters for a 'Mr. Potter'. Vernon quickly piled them all back into the car after that, and once again they were back on the road.

"Has daddy gone mad?" Dudley ask his mom after they stopped at an odd little shop on an off road. Vernon had gone in and returned with a bag and a long, narrow package. After that, it was even more convoluted driving routes well into the evening.

By the time they stopped for real, Harry looked ready to strangle the man. Aside from the hotel, they'd been cooped up in the car, and part of him was screaming to be let out to walk some. Unfortunately, he didn't really plan on that walking to be around a creaky-looking old shack on a rock out in the water. The place smelled almost as bad as the hotel, was drafty, and Vernon's attempt to start a fire in the damp fireplace only got smoke.

By then, the storm that had been forecast earlier that day arrived. The whole place rattled as it was battered by the wind and waves and spray made its way in through the gaps in the walls. Petunia had found a few moldy blankets and made a bed for Dudley on the tattered old couch while, in typical fashion, she and Vernon claimed the lone bed in the place. It was pretty obvious that they expected him to find a spot on the floor, which he flipped them off for.

That wasn't happening, however. Mainly because due to a mix of the buzzsaw symphony now occurring, and the fact he needed some peace and quiet to mull over what had happened the last couple of days. Mainly the questions of why he was suddenly getting letters out of nowhere, and why Dudley even bothered helping him.

* * *

"Almost there." Hagrid said to himself, making his way down the coast. Dumbledore had let him use a bit of the Trace to search for Harry Potter after not getting a response from him over the week. The trek south had been fairly straightforward mostly, until it started leading him near the coast for some reason. He wasn't too sure, but figured they were on holiday. Shame about the storm, though.

A few more checks had him beeline towards a rundown old shack out on the water. Why the Muggles had picked a place like that to vacation at, he'd never know. What he did know was that it wasn't leading him to the shack itself, but a busted up rowboat propped up on the shore.


	5. Chapter 5

While the rowboat wasn't the most comfortable sleeping spot in the world, at least it was quiet. Outside of the nearby waves and rain at least. Plus it was secluded enough to let Harry think a little.

Now that he'd settled down, he was able to think back on what the hell that massive flurry of letters was about. Who sent them down the chimney in the first place? And _why_? Was it some jackass's idea of a prank?

That brought up another issue; he and Dudley had never gotten along. Hell, Vernon and Petunia practically cheered him on when the boy started irritating Harry, so why would he even bother helping him in the first place. Even Dudley wasn't sure why he did it himself.

He was torn from his contemplating, however, when the boat was suddenly, and rather rudely, lifted up, letting him get hit by the rain. Despite the massive figure standing over him, currently holding the boat like it was nothing, Harry glared up at them. "First off; who the hell are you? And second, have you ever heard of knocking first!?" He growled, not appreciating his cover being pulled away like that.

"Oh, uh, well I…" Hagrid faltered a little at the unexpected hostility. Much less the fact that the boy under the boat looked like Harry, but there was something about him that made the man want to be a little bit more careful. Especially since he remembered what happened the last time he saw him.

Watching a baby spit out a freshly severed finger'll do that to a guy. "I was asked to come deliver your Hogwarts letter, since you haven't responded yet."

Not seeing any point to laying down while the rain hit, Harry got up and narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the large man. While the rain made it hard to accurately make out his appearance, the large bushy beard and voice were familiar. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Probably. Though you were just a baby back then." Hagrid chuckled, relaxing a little. "You barely fit in the palm of my hand."

Realization crossed Harry's face. "Oh yeah...you're the guy who came after the ugly guy who killed my mom and dad blew up."

"Well, not quite how I'd put it, but yeah. Name's Rubeus Hagrid; Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts School of Wizardry and Witchcraft." The pride in his voice at the title was almost tangible. "Oh! Almost forgot..."

As Hagrid dug through the pockets of his coat, Harry stared blankly at what he'd just heard. School of _what_!? And who names one after a pig's skin condition, anyway? When he caught the smell of paper and ink, he found Hagrid holding out a letter just like the one that had first arrived. However, this one had 'Under the broken rowboat' as part of the address. Harry flipped it over. If this was some kind of prank, it was needlessly excessive. The wax seal keeping it closed was surprisingly elaborate, showing a lion, badger, snake, and crow or raven around a shield, with something written in a language he didn't know. He broke it open and started reading. "Accepted..? I never enrolled to this place!"

"Your parents had you down since the day you were born." Hagrid replied. "I suspect you'll be a thumping good one, just like them, once you've had a bit of training."

"A good **WHAT!" **Harry's voice deepened to show his annoyance. "**Get to the point, dammit!"**

Hagrid paused briefly, giving him a speculative look. "Um, you're a wizard, Harry." He gave him another, longer look. "_Among other things, apparently._" He added under his breath.

"Ok...so, what does that mean?"

"Well, has anything ever happened when you were angry or scared? Accidental magic is-"

"Oh, you mean stuff like this?" Harry pointed at the raft. "Cut!"

Hagrid performed a double-take when a large notch cleaved itself into the edge of the boat. "Y-yeah, like that." He gulped a little at how clean the cut was. "Well, at Hogwarts, you'll be able to learn to do a lot more with it."

"Like these? Pierce! Break!"

Hagrid paled some when the boat had a neat, finger-sized hole punched into it, followed by part of the wood breaking in like a heavy cudgel just hit. "E-exactly." He fumbled around his pockets f before taking out a large flask and taking a swig from it, shuddering briefly. "Right...now all we gotta do is let your relatives know…"

"Don't bother." Harry waved the idea off. "They aren't worth telling anyway."

"Wha? But, Harry, they're...they're your family." Hagrid said, looking confused at his reaction.

Harry scoffed. "'Family?' Are you kidding? They hate me. And frankly, the feeling's mutual. The Dursley's can go sit on tacks for all I care. I'll have to get my bag out of the trunk, but after that, i can finally say good riddance to them and Number Four."

Hagrid could scarcely believe what he'd just heard! The casual way Harry just dismissed his relations... "But...but your home!" He protested, following Harry to the the Dursley's vehicle.

"Pierce!" There was a loud puncture of metal as Harry's spell ripped through the trunk lock, letting it pop open. "You're joking, right? Privet Drive was _never_ home." With that, Harry removed the canvas bag and looked at him, still holding the letter. "So, where am I supposed to get a cauldron, robes, and all this other stuff?"

At Hogwarts, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was getting ready for bed when a pecular feeling wafted over him. The odd feeling that something just happened.

Something he really should be concerned about.

"Fawks?" He turned to the large red and orange bird perched nearby. "We did make sure all the acceptance letters for the year were sent, correct?" The bird chirped in the affirmative. "Go over the summer pay for the staff?" Fawks nodded. "Restocked the kitchen for the next year?" Another nod. "Made sure we found all the booby-traps the Weasley twins left behind" One more nod.

Dumbledore sighed in confusion. "Odd...I have the strangest feeling that I should be looking into something. But what?"

Fawkes just gave a birdy shrug and tucked his head under a wing to go to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, there's actually a...magic user shopping area in the middle of London?" Harry asked as the motorcycle sidecar he was riding in rattled against the rocky street.

Hagrid nodded. "That's right. Granted, it was up before the Muggles, what we call nonmagic folk, before they built all that stuff up 'round it."

The two rode in silence for a minute after that, then Harry spoke back up. "Hagrid, sorry about being on the less than friendly side earlier. Just felt like I was being barged in on without warning, it riles me up really easily for some reason."

"Well, in all fairness, not too many do enjoy that." The large man admitted. "I probably should've given a heads up or something myself."

The rain finally let up before long, leaving a clear, moonlit night. "So...we heading there now?" Harry asked, before he noticed they were stopping near a small shop.

"Nah. Most of the Muggle and magical places there are closed right now, and us walking around would draw too much attention. Supposed to keep a low profile."

"'Low profile'?" Harry raised an eyebrow as he looked up, and up at him.

Hagrid stared back at him, in slight confusion for a moment, before it clicked. "Oh, hehe. I get it."

"So, I take it we're staying here till morning?"

Hagrid nodded. "Yup. Oh! Almost forgot!" He started rummaging through the multitude of pockets on his coat, finally retrieving a box that had a slightly squashed cake in it. "Happy Birthday, Harry! Made it myself." He smiled proudly.

"Birthday?" Harry thought back on the last time he saw a calendar. "Wow, I'd actually forgotten about that. It's been an odd couple of days, thanks to the Dursleys." A light whisper of 'cut' had the cake split between them. Hagrid got over half his side in one bite. Harry, though…

"Something wrong, Harry?"

"I appreciate the gesture, Hagrid." He sighed. "But...well, I've just never had much of a sweet tooth. I can eat it, but sometimes the 'sweet' is a bit overwhelming."

"Ah, so I take you prefer more of a savory bent?"

"More or less...hm." Harry looked over at the store." Hang on." Pulling out his bag, he rummaged around in it, getting up the loose money he'd found from time to time until he had a few pounds. Counting it out, he rushed over to the store, leaving a befuddled Hagrid waiting for him.

A few minutes later, he returned with a small plastic bag full of small, bright orange peppers. "This'll work." Harry grinned, sticking them into his half of the cake before chomping down. "Much better."

While Harry made his way through the cake, Hagrid looked at one of the remaining peppers. "What exactly are these?"

"It's a habanaro pepper Hagrid." Harry replied.

"Like a bell pepper?"

"Not really. Habanaros are some of the hottest peppers out there."

"A hot pepper?" The big man chortled. "That's just silly." Unable to resist, he took one out and bit into it.

"Three...two...one."

"MERLIN'S PLEATED MUSTACHE! IT BURNS!"

'_I told you.'_ He thought, while the man grabbed a flask from his coat and chugged it.

Once the cake was taken care of, and Harry stashed the remaining peppers for later, the two found a couple relatively comfortable spots to nod off.

* * *

When Harry woke the next morning, he noticed something was off. First, he wasn't laying at the foot of the tree he'd picked; and two, Hagrid was setting him back into the sidecar.

"You're a bit of a heavy sleeper, Harry. You know that?" Hagrid chuckled, seeing him looked around, still half-out.

''Appens." Harry mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as Hagrid started the motorcycle up again.

"Say, Harry, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Last night, you said you left the place your relatives were staying in. But, I didn't see any boat nearby, aside from the one you were under."

"Oh, I just swam." Harry replied. "It was kind of choppy, so took me longer than I wanted."

Hagrid nearly steered into oncoming traffic when he heard that. "Swam!? B-but you, and your clothes, were dry! And you didn't even look cold!"

"Well, I can make my clothes dry, but...'cold'?" He looked legitimately confused. "I hear people throw that word around when autumn and winter roll around; the teacher said it's the opposite of warm, but I've never felt it."

"You've never felt cold? Never?" When Harry shook his head, Hagrid found himself wondering if there was anything in his flask still. "But what about when it snows?"

"Just gets me wet when it melts. My twit uncle thought locking me outside overnight once when I was little was a proper 'punishment' after I slapped my cousin for trying to steal my sandwich." Harry barely noted the look of outrage on the man's face. "Punched him in the bollocks for it when I got back in."

It took him a second to calm back down after that, but once he did, he just stared at the road. "Blimey…"

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time they reached London. Hagrid quickly steered into a side alley where no one could see. After they dismounted, he hit a switch on the gastank that caused it to shrink down until it was toy-sized, much to Harry's surprise.

"Ok, now _that's_ handy!" He commented while Hagrid slipped it into his pocket. "Save on parking fees, too."

Hagrid just grinned and let him back to the main street. The two walked until he stopped in front of a rundown old pub, a sign reading 'The Leaky Cauldron' hanging over the door. The place stood out like a grey hair against the brick and concrete around them, but for some reason, they seemed to be the only ones who were even aware of its existence. "Here we are!"

"Here...Hagrid, you said we were heading to this 'Diagon Alley' place, not a bar."

"We are, Harry. This is the entrance to it." He ushered Harry inside.

The smell of pipe smoke and old alcohol assaulted his senses the moment they went through the door, forcing Harry to fight back the urge to gag. Hagrid must've noticed though, since he was pretty quick to start leading him over to a back door.

"Mornin' Hagrid." The barkeep said, wiping out a glass. "The usual?"

"Hogwarts business right now, Tom." He replied. "Maybe later."

"Hogwarts…" Tom's eyes widened when he stared - rather rudely, Harry thought - at the scar on his forehead. "My word...Harry Potter!"

He started to ask how the hell the man knew his name when he was suddenly swarmed by nearly every adult in the bar. Harry found his hands being snatched roughly in handshakes, people patting him hard on the back and shoulders, and what felt like an attempted hug from one of them.

And he did NOT like it. He knew none of these people, yet they had the presumption to think they could mob on him like this!? "Hey, do you mind? Could you back off?"

Unfortunately, they either didn't hear, or didn't care, and he started getting pulled and pushed as they jockeyed to get near him.

"Let go, dammit!" Harry tried to pull away from them, but got yanked back to someone.

Then Hagrid felt it...the sudden surge of heat, centered on Harry, and warning bells started going off mentally. "Hey, come on now! Give him some room!" Hagrid pulled away a few people, only to have others replace them. Then as soon as it spiked, it dropped, causing a near cold snap that made more than a few jump back.

Harry's face contorted into a scowl and he let out a snarl that seemed to echo in the room, the fog from his exhaling making him look ready to spit fire. "**Back off, NOW."**

The whole room suddenly went grave silent, everyone freezing in place with looks of pure fear. Save for Hagrid, who just slowly and carefully made his way through the now frightened crowd.

"Where the bloody hell do you people get off; swarming and pawing at an eleven year old?" Despite the deceptively calm tone in his voice, they could still hear the cold anger lacing it.

"B-but you stopped You-Know-Who for us!" One of them blurted out, earning a look from him.

"It doesn't matter what the bloody sod I did, you are adults mobbing someone who's barely entered their teens! Not to mention how you already know my name, which is damn disturbing due to the fact I've never met a single one of you in my life. The fact I don't know any of you mean that you are all strangers to me, and therefore I am legally obligated to defend myself, violently if need be, if you do not back off."

They started to protest until Tom spoke up. "He's got a point, folks. Rushing a lad like that doesn't look good for any of you, so give him some room." He gave Hagrid a nod towards the door while keeping his eye on the lot. "Frankly, I'm a tad disappointed in you all…"

"Harry? C'mon, lad, let's get you outta here." Hagrid said quietly, moving into his view to block most of the mob and gently guide him out of there while Tom told them off.

Once they were in the pub's back lot, small as it was, Hagrid waited calmly while Harry took a few deep breaths to calm down. "All right, Harry?"

"All right!?" Harry looked at him with incredulous outrage. "Hagrid, you saw that! What the hell is their problem?"

He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I should've warned you about this earlier. You see, Harry...you're kind of a celebrity in the wizarding world." He proceeded to tell him about the man called Voldemort and his reign of terror until the night he attacked the Potters.

"Wait...so, because I bit the guy's finger off, and whatever happened after that made him blow up, they think I beat him? I was a year old! And I didn't do 'for them' I was mad at him for shooting that green spell at my parents!"

The huge man turned to look at him so quick, he almost broke his umbrella on the brickwork. "You...you remember all that?" He asked, bewildered.

Harry shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? A little hard to forget biting off the finger off a man who's decided he wants to look like a snake." He jerked a thumb back to the pub. "Don't think I'm going to forget THAT any time soon, unfortunately."

Hagrid faltered for a moment before finally regaining his composure. "Oh...um...well, dunno what to tell you, Harry. That's what they're convinced of, and I doubt anything'll make them believe otherwise." Harry groaned and muttered something that sounded like 'wankers'. "Um, just outta curiosity, Harry..." He started, tapping out a pattern on the back wall with his umbrella, "You ever been in a lot of fights?"

"Huh? Oh, a few. Dunno if you could call them 'fights'. I make it a rule to give someone three chances to know they've been an idiot. Then I have to hurt them. It's mostly my cousin on his gang that I end up slapping around because they never seem to learn."

"Well, least you're giving them fair warning." He replied, sneaking a contemplative look at the boy while he resumed tapping the pattern out. Once he hit the last brick, the wall suddenly began melting away, the bricks realigning themselves into a wide archway. Beyond it was a long, store-lined cobblestone street filled with people bustling around. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Harry."


	7. Chapter 7

Harry looked the cobblestone-lined street from side to side. There were people almost constantly entering and exiting the varied shops. Unfortunately, there was also the loud shouts and strange herby and sour-sweet smells that were mixing together into a sensory assault that was putting him in an even fouler mood.

Hagrid was quick to notice this, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'uh-oh'. "Uh, c-come on, Harry." He quickly took his shoulder and lightly nudged him in the direction of a large white building at the opposite end of the street. "Let's get you your money for your supplies!"

Thankfully, the walk there ended up being relatively uneventful, aside from a couple others quickly moving aside, either from Hagrid's size or picking up on Harry's irritation. As they neared the building, Harry saw the sign reading 'Gringott's Bank', along with a plaque that, while he didn't read the whole thing, apparently warned that you'd get more than you'd bargained for trying to rob the place.

The entrance had a pair of short individuals with long noses and squat, angular faces guarding it. Both were decked out in plate armor and welding heavy pikes, and even though they barely reached Hagrid's knee, both of them did their best to seemingly look down their noses at him. When Harry went past, however, both of them seemed to do a double-take and started muttering to each other in a language he'd never heard of.

"Goblins, Harry." Hagrid said quietly, getting into a cue with him as the boy glanced around the tellers and clerks moving around, some rifling through files, others weighing out coins and gems. Like the guards, a goblin nearby gave him a wide-eyed look and quickly tried to look busy while keeping an eye on him. "They manage all the money of wizarding Britain. Not the friendliest lot, so you need to be careful."

After a few minutes of waiting, they finally made it to a teller. "Mr. Potter's here to make a withdrawal from his vault."

"Does Mr. Potter have his key?" The goblin asked.

"Vault...key?" Harry looked from the goblin to Hagrid. "What are you talking about? I don't have a…" He trailed off when, among the odds and ends the man pulled out of his pockets, was a small silver key that he handed to the teller. "Hagrid…" He gave the man a hard look. "You better have a damn good reason as to why you have _my_ property."

"Well, it's been held in trust till you're old enough." Hagrid started to take the key back. "Headmaster Dumbledore gave it to me to make sure you'd get your school money. Great man, Dumble-"

...only for Harry's hand to slam down on it, nails gouging the wood of the counter. "I don't care how 'great' this Dumbledore is. I've never even heard of him, so where the hell does he get off having it without my knowledge **or permission?"**

Hagrid stepped back slightly, looking alarmed at the change in Harry's voice. The Goblin had already backed off and was watching the scene with a mix of intrigue and surprise. "Um, Dumbledore was the executor of your father's will, and he was named named to tend to thing assets until you came of age, so he's been acting in trust."

"**What. Will?" **Harry's nails slowly cut longer gouges as his hand tightened on the key. "**I was never told about this. And again, I've never heard of this Dumbledore, so what's his excuse for me not finding out until NOW?"**

"Well, given all that's happened lately, he might not have had time? But...you _were_ a baby your parents...you know...so that wasn't really a good time to try and tell you. I don't really know all the details, but I'm sure Dumbledore'll explain things after you get to Hogwarts…" He replied, doing his best to make sure that he sounded calm, part of him insisting he refrain from provoking him.

Harry stared at him, the low growl finally fading after a moment. "Fine. But he better have a good explanation." He pulled the key away when Hagrid tried to get it back. "However, this is MINE."

"Ah, true..." He said, experience starting to add up all he'd seen so far.

* * *

When they'd been directed to follow another goblin down to his vault, Harry didn't really expect to get on an insane minecart ride that had Hagrid looking ready to hurl everywhere. Nor did he expect to see what happened when the vault was opened. His eyes widened at the sight of the copper, silver, and gold piles filling the room. "Whoa…" For a moment, he wondered just how well he'd sleep on one, but shook it off for later.

"Yeah, your parents managed to save a fair bit." Hagrid watched he as took the money bag they'd been given up in the main area and scooped a mix of coins into it. He was about to tell him it was shopping time when he saw Harry seem to weigh the filled bag for a moment, bouncing it in his hands briefly. Finally, a surge of realization kicked in when he saw him tuck another couple of handfuls in before he looked satisfied. '_Oh dear.."_

He was so occupied with that thought, he nearly forgot about his stop at Vault 713.

* * *

"Ok...um, you still have your supply list?" Hagrid asked, figuring this'd help take his find off that.

"Yeah...I guess just going down the list'll be easier. So robes first." Harry replied, looking to see where that shop was.

Hagrid quickly took him over to Madam Malkins'. "I need to get something to settle my stomach after that cart ride. Ruddy things always make me queasy. You'll be ok on your own?"

"Don't worry, Hagrid. I tend to enjoy being on my own." He replied as the assistant led him over to a small raised platform. Once he was gone, Harry took a look at the place. It was definitely one of those old-style places where it mostly just all fabric rolls with dressmaker dummies. However, he wasn't as alone that he thought. On the platform beside him was a short -well, short compared to him - pale blonde who was being fitted as well.

He wasn't sure why, but his senses were screaming this guy was going to be an annoying pest. Thought, it might've just been because he smelled like an unwashed rodent dunked in very cheap perfume.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry winced at how the smell seemed to get stronger the longer he stood by the boy. His opinion of him lowered further when he saw him looking at the woman who was pinning up his robe like she was something to wipe off his shoe.

It was then that he finally got out of his own world to see Harry standing there. "Going to Hogwarts?" He asked in what he figured must've been a civil tone.

"Yeah." Harry responded, letting the lady put a basic robe on him for pinning. He knew he should at least try to be a little polite and respond, but the blonde's attitude rubbed him the wrong way.

He must've felt that that was an invitation to keep talking since he apparently decided he needed to know about his mother going to get his wand and his dad getting his books. Harry could swear he seemed almost proud of that. Though, when he started in on dragging them off to look at 'racing brooms', that had him wonder what the hell he was talking about.

"Don't see why first years aren't allowed their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it."

"_Joy...a skinny Dudley…"_ Harry muttered under his breath.

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No." He was about to ask what the hell 'Quidditch' was, but Blondie just plowed on.

"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know the house you'll be in yet?"

He just gave him a look, and started to say something before…"Oh! I'm so sorry! The lady said, checking Harry's arm. "Are you ok?"

"Huh? What happened?" He asked, giving her a confused look.

"I just accidentally stuck you with a pin."

"Oh. Don't worry, I'm pretty thick-skinned." He waved it off, much to her surprise.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?" He continued, not even acknowledging the lack of response as Harry's eyes narrowed. This time, he definitely heard condescension in Blondie's tone. "But I know _I'll_ be in Slytherin. All Malfoys have been." He looked nauseous. "Imagine being in Hufflepuff! I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Riiiight…listen, how about you-"

"I say, look at that man!" The boy cut him off, pointing at the front window. Hagrid was standing there, waving to hHarry and pointing at the large ice cream in his hand to show he couldn't come in.

"Oh, that's just Hagrid." Harry replied. "Works at Hogwarts. "

"I've heard of him. Isn't he some kind of servant?"

"He's the gamekeeper."

"Exactly. Father says he's a sort of savage. Lives in a hut on the school grounds. Supposedly gets drunk every now and then, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed." Malfoy sneered.

"Ok. I've tried to show a measure of politeness, but you do not catch subtlety. You are being a dick right now."

The blonde stared at him in surprise, quickly turning to anger. "How dare you! Don't you know who I am!? My father-"

"No, I don't know. And I don't give a damn anyway." Harry cut him off this time. "Look, I don't know about these 'houses', I don't know about whatever the hell this Quidditch thing is, and I don't care about it or brooms! I just wanna let this lady finish so I can go get the rest of my stuff."

"You...you're a MUDBLOOD!?" Blondie spat out, looking at him in disgust.

"YOUNG MAN!" The woman snapped, glaring at him with a mix of anger, and her own disgust. "I will NOT have that vile word spoke in _my_ establishment! Now apologize!"

"To this thing!? It should be-" He pointed at Harry...only to yelp when Harry grabbed him by his collar.

Given how the lady reacted, he didn't need any guess to tell that Blondie had called him something magic users considered an extreme insult. It was more playground-level to him; but, 'thing' and 'it'...

"**Call me that again...I DARE you."** He snarled, the temperature around him spiking suddenly before dropping like a rock.

"..." The blonde whimpered slightly, a foul smell filling the air.

"Did...did you just shit yourself?" Harry asked, holding him away some.

"A little…" He responded, too scared to bluster.

Harry grimaced, namely because of the stink. "Ugh, what'd you eat...look. I'm going to say this only once. You've already proven to be someone I don't like, so when we get to Hogwarts, we stay away from each other. We don't bother each other, we don't talk, and we'll both be happier in the long run. Also, consider this strike one. Two more, and I hurt you, Understand?"

He nodded rapidly.

"Good." He let the blonde go, who quickly waddled to the changing room to try and clean up, and turned to the lady, who was looking at Harry like he'd just breathed fire. "Sorry about that. I do NOT react well to being called that."

* * *

"Blimey, Harry, what'd he say that set you off?" Hagrid asked, once Harry's fitting was done. "Boy ran like he'd filled his drawers."

"Ah, the little prick decided flinging insults was in order after I told him I wasn't interested in listening to him yammer. No idea what 'mudblood' is supposed to be, but from how the lady in there went off on him, I'd say it was bad."

"Surprised you left him in one piece for that." Hagrid mumbled to himself, though Harry still managed to hear it.

"Three strike rule, remember? It's kind of an uncreative insult, to be honest. Calling me a 'thing' and 'it', however...I _will_ get mean."

"No arguments here." He replied. "Here, let's go get the rest of your supplies."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Harry, but even if it would make a nice sleeping cap, you can't buy a solid gold cauldron. Not right now anyway."

"Ehh." The boy muttered as they left the next to last shop. The rest of the shopping had been fairly uneventful...outside of the apothecary, where Hagrid frantically attempted to hide the sign advertising dragon liver. And Harry wasn't sure why, but the sight of it, for some inexplicable reason, made him want to beat the shop owner bloody.

"And last but not least, Ollivander's." Hagrid said with a mix of respect and trepidation as he ushered Harry in.

"Why does it smell like sawdust and menthol in here?" Harry asked, looking confused at the odd scent, not to mention the odd tingle the place was giving him.

"Ah, Mr.-" A reedy voice started speaking right behind him. Hagrid winced as the boy spun around and slugged Garrick Ollivander right between the eyes. "Floo call for you, Mumsy." The man said, his expression going cross-eyed before he toppled to the floor.

'_Ouch...Professor McGonagall always said that trick would get him in trouble one of these days.' _Hagrid thought.


	9. Chapter 9

"Blimey, that's going to leave a mark…" Ollivander winced as he prodded the already swelling spot where he'd been punched. It'd taken Hagrid a few minutes to wake the man up, though he was still wobbly.

"What do you expect, sneaking up on someone like that?" Harry muttered. Hagrid had explained that the old wandmaker considered it funny to startle people like that. Harry, however, did not share in the so-called 'humor. "Be grateful someone hasn't tased you yet!"

"...tased?" The old man looked perplexed.

"Ever been hit by lightning?"

Ollivander blanched at the thought. That was an unpleasant experience, regardless of who you were. "Um, yes...well, shall we find you your wand?"

Harry shrugged and looked at the small boxes that lined the walls. "Does it matter which one I pick?"

"'_You_ pick'?" The man scoffed. "Heavens no, Mr. Potter! The wand chooses the wizard; _not _the other way around!"

"The hell's THAT supposed to mean!?" Harry snapped, not really liking the slight smugness i his tone.

"Each wand will only respond properly to a specific witch or wizard." Ollivander continued, ignoring the glower he was getting while picking out certain boxes from the towering stacks. "Some will test out several before finding the right one. Here try this one. Hornbeam and Unicorn hair."

Harry took the piece of wood. "Something supposed to happen?" He asked, waving it around, only to have the man quickly snatch it and put a different one in his hand. "UGH!" He quickly threw it down.

"Mr. Potter!" Ollivander looked scandalized.

He didn't know exactly why, but he felt like he'd just had a dead body shoved into his hand. "What the HELL was that!?" He yelled, shuddering in revulsion. "It was like holding a corpse!"

"It was just Elm with a dragon heartstring! Ukranian Ironbelly, to be exact." He responded, picking the

"I don't care what it is, that was revolting!" Harry quickly wiped his hand on his shirt.

Behind him, Hagrid chuckled softly and nodded to himself.

* * *

Over two hours passed, and Harry was getting tired, hungry, and annoyed. After Ollivander tried sticking another wand that felt like a dead body on him, he threatened to make him eat one if he did it again. He'd already lost count of how many he'd had to wave besides those. The guy had the nerve to look offended at him when a particular wand didn't work, muttering something about a 'fax' or whatever.

"Well, Mr. Potter. It would seem that a...normal wand will not suit you." He finally spoke up.

"Oi! You're the one who kept yanking them out of my hand, and I _meant_ what I said about those dead ones!" Harry growled. If this old bastard thought he could blame him...

"As in a standard one, I mean." He added, placatingly. "I tend to use three items for my cores; heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feathers. You, however, are going to require a more obscure combination." The man quickly disappeared through the door in the back of the shop.

"Any idea what he's talking about?" Harry asked, looking back at Hagrid, who was currently knitting a bright yellow...something. "And...what in the world is that?"

Before he could respond, Olivander came back out with something that looked like a large jewelry box, setting it down on the counter. "It's quite rare when a wizard requires a nonstandard wand, Mr. Potter." He said, opening the box, along with several side panels and drawers on it to reveal various shards, strands, and slivers of things Harry had no clue about.

"Last I recall was a hundred years ago; an Estonian mage who used a bronze rod with a yeti hair core. Packed quite a wallop from what I heard. Now, these are samples of my more esoteric materials. I normally use them for experimentation, but let's see what we can find." Taking out a small crystal ball with a wire attached to it, he slid the wire into a small slot in the box and handed the ball to Harry. "Squeeze that as hard as you can, please. Until it starts glowing."

Harry looked at the ball and wire, wondering if the man was as crazy as he looked. Shaking his head resignedly, he squeezed the ball, his forearm flexing as he put all the pressure he could on it,...

Until they all heard a loud 'CRACK' followed by the ball abruptly shattering in Harry's grip, sending shards and slivers of busted crystal scattering about the table and his feet.

"Dear Merlin!" Ollivander yelped jumping back. Even Hagrid looked startled at that.

Harry just stared at the remaining pieces still in his hand. "Was that supposed to happen?"

"No!" Ollivander blurted out. "You...you destroyed it!"

"You said 'squeeze as hard as you can'! That's what I did!"

"Well…yes." He sighed, looking at the box. "Thankfully it managed to get a reading before it broke. Just give me some time and your wand should be ready in a couple of weeks." The man took out his own wand and began flicking it over the samples, causing more than a few to shimmer or sparkle. "This may take a little bit."

* * *

"So, what now?" Harry asked, after Ollivander ushered them out of the shop.

"Oh!" Hagrid snapped his fingers. "Almost forgot; you're allowed a toad, cat, or owl with you. Let's go with an owl, deal useful since they can carry letters for you." He started off before Harry could say anything.

"What? Hey, wait a sec!" Harry had to run to catch up to him, thanks to the man's ridiculous stride. "Dammit, Hagrid, I don't even know if I even _want_ an-" He stopped when something caught his ear, coming from inside the shop he was passing. It was faint, but he could hear it sounding desperate.

"Harry?" Hagrid asked, finally turning around in time to see him enter the Magical Menagerie. "Harry, hold up, that's not Eeylops' owl Emporium."

He ignored the man and followed the sound. Inside the shop, he was hit by the smells of various animals, followed by the chirps, yowels, and various other noises the animals started making. Luckily, he could still make out the sound, and following it made it a lot clearer.

It wasn't an animal...it was a voice. A girl's voice, judging by the sound.

"...I said knock it off! Leave me alone!"

A look at the store clerk told Harry either the man wasn't even listening or didn't care, so he crossed him off as mattering and continued following the voice to a giant-sized bird cage in the back. Instead of birds, however, it was filled with fairies. The whole lot were barely six inches high, and all of them wearing a mix of toga-like gowns and simple loincloths. Once he was near it, he saw several were gathered near something...the owner of the voice.

"How many times do I have to tell you bakas!?" It wasn't a fairy, though, it was a dragon. A small, iridescent sea-green dragon, with lighter-colored mothlike wings, an arrow-shaped head with four small fins, and bright, almost glowing indigo eyes. "My name ISN'T 'Titania'!"

"What is it then?" He asked.

"It's Erza, and-" The dragon did a double-take and looked straight at him. "Y-you heard me?"

"Yeah, I could hear you from outside actually." He replied. "So, what's a dragon doing in a cage full of fairies?"

In a flash, the little dragon had all four sets of claws latched into the bars, scrambling to climb as close to him as she could. "Get me out here, I'm begging you! It's bad enough I let myself get caught by THAT guy!" She pointed at the clerk. "But this lot is driving me up the wall, and I've only been here a couple of days!" She gave him a pleading look. "Please! These jerks think I'm some kind of noble. They won't stop calling me 'Lady Titania', won't leave me alone, and the food sucks!"

Harry wasn't a hundred percent sure why, but he was getting a feeling in his gut that he should help the little dragon out. "Oi! How much for this one? With the moth wings?"

"That one?" The clerk scoffed. "You can have it!" He picked up a key and headed over to him. "Refuses to associate with the others, and keeps making really rude gestures at me when I get near! It's got ugly wings anyway."

"At least my nose doesn't look like a swollen pimento, you hekoki!" She snapped back, ignoring the fairies shouts of protest at them 'taking their lady' as she scurried into Harry's hand as soon as the door was opened. The moment they touched, both jerked a little at the jolt of what felt like static shock.

"The hell…?' Harry scratched the spot on his hand where he felt it.

"Huh…" Erza looked up at him. "Apparently this means I'm your familiar." She shrugged. "Better than being stuck here. So..." Her eyes widened as she got a better look at him. "So, we going by names, or will just 'Aniki' work?"


	10. Chapter 10

He knew it probably looked rude, but as Harry left the shop, Hagrid couldn't help staring at his decision with a bit of bewilderment. "Well, not my place to talk about a fella's choice of companion, but...why a fairy?"

Harry blinked. "What fairy?"

"The Japanese fairy sitting on your shoulder. They're the only kind with moth wings."Harry looked at Erza, who chittered something Hagrid couldn't understand. "Pardon?

"She asked if you're drunk. You aren't, are you?"

"Course not!" He replied. "Not...right now, at least."

"Riiight. Anyway, I found a dragon the shop owner had stuffed in with the fairies."

"A dragon? But..." Hagrid paused. "Ohhhh…blimey, thought they were extinct. Huh, guess that explains it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, I forgot about that." Erza chirped, her wings fluttering in embarrassment. "Aniki, he can't see my real form. We Fairy Dragons can put up an illusion to make us look like regular fairies as a defense. Or birds and squirrels if there's a non-magical human around. Only another dragon can see through the disguise."

"Ok...so let him see."

Her wings fluttered again. "I...I can't. I forgot how to turn it off. It takes a precise gesture to undo the spell, and I don't remember what mine was."

"You're kidding."

She gave him the dragon equivalent of 'puppy dog eyes'. "Please don't tell anyone, it's bad enough regular fairies insist on calling me 'Titania'" She shook her head in revulsion. "I HATE that name!"

"Ok, ok. I won't. Just don't give me that look anymore, it's playing dirty...wait, what you mean 'another dragon'?"

* * *

"So...how long are we gonna be here, Aniki?" Erza asked, looking around the somewhat unimpressive room they were staying in.

"Just until September rolls around, then we head to this Hogwarts place." Harry had made it clear he wasn't going back to the Dursleys, since he considered them neither family nor friends. While he was a little wary of staying in the same place he'd been mobbed at, the Leaky Cauldron was a place to stay at least. And the smaller room he picked was comfortable.

"Well, at least we'll get to prep for it." She said, perching on his shoulder while they both leafed through _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_.

* * *

"Ah, Hagrid." Dumbledore greeted the large man as he entered the headmaster's office. "I take it you had no trouble delivering Harry his letter."

"Not really, Professor." Hagrid mentally debated on if he should try telling the man what he'd learned.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, it's just...to be frank, Harry's not your normal boy."

Dumbledore nodded lightly. "Well, I will admit, surviving _that_ spell is something that'll make him remembered for quite a while…"

"No...no, Headmaster" Hagrid shook his head. "Harry...blimey, how do I phrase this? He...he's part dragon, Sir."

"Well, yes, it's only normal for children his age to pardon? " Dumbledore blinked once it set in. "You think Harry Potter is…"

"Part dragon, yessir." He replied, holding up a hand to stop him. "I-I know it sounds like a bunch of malarkey, but I saw enough proof to make me think that. I'll even swear on my magic!"

"Hagrid, it's not that I don't believe you, though, the mere thought is rather out there. The question is why do you think that?"

"May wanna get comfortable, Sir. This may take a bit." He began with his initial meeting with the boy.

"Wait...his family _left_ him on the shore?" Dumbledore's jaw dropped.

"Not quite, Headmaster. He said he couldn't stand the snoring, so he swam back. Found him under a broken rowboat...and he wasn't too happy about me not knocking first."

"Swam?"

Hagrid nodded. "I found it hard to believe too! That water had to be colder than a merman's basement, but when I asked about that,he asked me what 'cold' was!"

As he listened to Hagrid's tale, Dumbledore could hear a tiny part of himself saying to brush it off as Hagrid's imagination, but he knew the large man well enough to know he'd never report something like this unless it was true, or he honestly believed it to be.

"I mean, cold don't affect him, he dries faster than anything I can think of. He gets aggressively territorial, especially with what he considers HIS property...you may wanna be ready, Sir, 'Cause he wasn't too thrilled about a bloke he'd never met having his vault key."

"But I was merely holding on to it…"

"'Fraid he don't care. Far as Harry's concerned, you had something of his without his knowledge or permission. The goblins nearby got uneasy when his nails gouged out the counter. And believe me, Professer, when he gets angry, you'll _feel_ it." He shook himself a little to relax and continued. "He's also got a handle on wandless spells; even demonstrated a few, like the cutting and piercing hexes. When we got to Ollivander's...you can tell Professor McGonagall that her warning to him finally happened."

"Harry...hit him?"

"Right between the eyes when he tried his usual 'greeting'. As for getting a wand...he refused to touch any that had a dragon heartstring as a core. Said it was like holding a corpse. Ollivander actually has to make a custom order."

Dumbledore wasn't sure what to say to that. It wasn't unheard of, just very, very uncommon. Though he was a little disappointed the boy didn't bond with the wand that held Fawks' tail feather. He glanced over at the perch with the large red bird sat, listening on the conversation.

"And he saw through a Fairy Dragon's disguise-"

Both old man and bird looked at him in surprise. "Fairy Dragon?"

"Aye, Professor. He found her with the other fairies at the Magical Menagerie."

"I thought those were extinct."

"You and me both. Guess it shows how good they are at hiding. Got her as his familiar, to boot."

Dumbledore slumped into his seat as the information settled in. "So...he's part dragon…"

Hagrid shrugged helplessly. "Your guess is as good as mine on how that happened."

"Well, Hagrid, you're currently the most knowledgeable on dragons at Hogwarts. How should I proceed?"

"To be totally honest, Sir; either put Professor Snape on a shorter leash, or line up a replacement Potions Professor for when he hits his third strike."

"Third strike?"

"Harry has a three strikes rule. He'll give you two chances to recognize that you've done something foolish...then he resorts to violence. The younger Malfoy's already earned his first." Hagrid sighed. "Something tells me Professor Snape'll go through all three at the first class."

'_And I'm inclined to agree with you." _Dumbledore mentally groaned. "_Oh, bugger…!"_


	11. Chapter 11

"This place smells weird, Aniki!" Erza complained,letting out a crickety sneeze as they waited for Ollivander to come out with Harry's wand. She huddled deeper into his pocket. "And I feel like I'm in a morgue, too!"

"Don't worry, Erza." He lightly scratched her head. "Just gotta grab my wand then we can get the hell outta here. Though he didn't say it, she had a point about feeling like they were in a morgue with all the heartstring wands around them.

Thankfully, the wait wasn't long. Ollivander soon emerged from the back, carrying a long, dark-colored box. "It's not often I find myself working with materials like this, Mr. Potter. However, I dare say they'll help you out quite a bit in the long run."

He opened it to show a thirteen-inch rod of faceted black stone, the tip ending in a point. The handle was leather-wrapped ebony, carved to resemble a claw where the stone emerged.

Harry picked it up, and felt a rush of something, like the feeling of satisfaction he'd gotten when he first told off Vernon. There was an immediate glow from the wand that pulsed once before it faded.

"Sugoi…!" Erza squeaked.

Ollivander preened a little. "One of my more unconventional combinations: dragonfire-hardened obsidian with a golden fleece strand core. Rather potent if I say so myself."

"Golden fleece? That's a thing?" Harry looked at him then back to the wand, wondering if he could see the gold if he looked at it close enough.

"Oh yes, Mr. Potter. The Chrysomallon Ram is very much a real beast. It's also quite dangerous if it decides you're an enemy. Was lucky to get away in one piece." He let out a reminiscing sigh. "That will be twenty-five galleons…" His eyes widened when he finally spied Erza. "Oh my...is that a Japanese fairy?" He started reaching for her. "I've heard the powder from their wings make an excellent lacquer!"

"Kimoi no Hentai!" She yelled before Harry could respond, suddenly exhaling a cloud of green vapor into Ollivander's face. "Keep your hands to yourself!"

The man jerked back, coughing slightly from the cloud before a dreamy expression crossed his face. "Huuu...heheh...wow…" He stared at his hand. "I have nipples on my fingers."

"What'd you do?" Harry asked, watching him poke at his fingers.

"Fairy dragons have a hallucinogenic gas we can breath out as a defense." Erza replied. "He'll be under the effects for at least half an hour." By then Ollivander was muttering about his nose trying to fly off.

"Right." Harry stared at him for a moment, then quietly went over to the counter and placed the money beside the register. He deftly ignored the man's declaration of 'penis waffle' and left him to his experience.

* * *

"'The pillar'll let you through' he said…" Harry grumbled, staring at the concrete support between the Nine and Ten train platforms. September first had finally rolled around, and Hagrid had come back to escort him to the Hogwarts Express.

Unfortunately, he'd left out one small detail: how to get through the damnable thing!

"'It's simple', he said…" He walked around it for the third time, trying to see if there was a switch or something to push. "Open Sesame? Oompa Loompa? Meka Leka Hi Meka Himey Ho! Would've been nice if you'd have said _**HOW**_, Hagrid!"

"Maybe we're at the wrong one?" Erza asked, sitting on the trunk Harry had gotten before coming to the station.

"But he pointed right at it! Screw it!" With an inarticulate growl of annoyance, he stepped forward and punched at the pillar. "Dack!"

*PAFF!*

He'd expected to hit something, just not someone else's face as his fist passed _right through_ the pillar.

"Goyle?" A stocky-looking boy asked the equally stout one Harry'd hit, who was now dazed on the ground. "You ok?"

"Who blew that thrudger!?" The other blurted out.

"Sorry about that." Harry said, realizing what happened. "He didn't warn me about there being a flipping portal." He glared back at where he'd stumbled in from before taking a look around.

The new platform was practically flooded with people. Parents were saying good-byes to their kids as they boarded the bright red steam engine. The air was filled with the sounds of hissing steam. Squawking and yowling animals, and muddled chatter of everyone there added to the cacophony. He didn't really pay much attention to the ones nearby that were still staring, mostly with a mix of shock, confusion, and a little amusement from a couple of other kids. Instead he headed back through and returning with his trunk.

"Gah! And I thought the pet store was noisy!" Erza tried to cover her ears. "Please tell me it's gonna be quieter on that train!"

Harry hoisted up his trunk. "Hopefully." He said as they made their way aboard. Several students ended up rubbernecking from their coach doors to watch the boy carrying a trunk with little effort. "What?" He gave a confused glare to a couple of girls who stared when he stopped to adjust his grip. When one just gave a squeak, he shook his head and continued on.

"Well, you do have big arms, Aniki." Erza commented, watching his bicep flex a little as he turned into an empty carriage. "That and no sleeves."

"Dunno what my arms have to do with it." He replied, lifting his trunk up onto the rack. "And sleeves just aren't comfortable."

It wasn't long before the train whistle blew and the whole thing jostled slightly, indicating they were finally heading out.

"So this what the 'English Countryside' looks like." Erza looked out the window, watching the London outskirts recede behind them. "Haven't seen the woods since I was caught…" She quickly blanched. "Shimatta...fairies live out there, don't they!? Screw that!" She quickly crawled back into his pocket.

"What exactly do you have against fairies anyway?" He asked, remembering she'd never really mentioned it.

"Fairies tend to treat fairy dragons somewhere between royalty and celebrities. Soon as I was in there, it was all 'My Grace' and 'Your Majesty' and 'Her Highness'...and it drove me up the freaking wall! Not to mention zero privacy; I couldn't even enjoy a nice afternoon nap without pillows and blankets being piled around me and being asked if it was to cold or soft or warm or whatever!. And that stupid 'Lady Titania'... I HATE THAT NAME! I was ready to BITE the next one to call me that! Even after I flat out yelled at them to stop, they assumed I was upset about _something else_! I don't know why some of my kind think it's fun; fairies are morons!" She finished, panting. "Sorry, had a lot to blow off there."

Harry started to respond when the carriage door opened and a skinny redhead looked in. "Can I come in?" He asked. "Everywhere else is full?"

Harry just stared at him. "Does the word 'knock' ring a bell?" He asked, annoyance lacing his tone. "You realize I could've been changing or something in here, right?"

It took a second, but realization kicked in. "OH! Uh, s-sorry. Wasn't...um...oh bugger…"

"Are you sure they were all filled?" Harry knew it probably sounded rude, but so was barging in like that.

"Th-the ones I saw were." He replied, looking a little uneasy.

Harry glanced back to the door before sighing. "Fine, just hurry up."

The boy quickly did so, introducing himself as Ron Weasley.

"Harry Potter." Soon as he said it, Harry quickly regretted giving his last name.

"Really!?" Ron's eyes quickly flicked up to his forehead. "Does that mean you have the scar?"

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" He asked with a hint of ice.

"Wow, subtly doesn't seem to be his thing." Erza chirped from her pocket.

"The scar you got when you defeated You-Know-Who."

"You mean the scar I got from the ugly, noseless guy who killed both my parents? Which landed me in the 'care' of relatives who most likely threw a party after learning I'm not living with them anymore?" Harry's eyes narrowed as he leaned in towards Ron. "The scar that made a bunch of adults decide they had the right to mob and paw at an eleven year old? THAT scar?"

"Oh...s-sorry…" Ron sat back sheepishly. 'I…" He quickly found the floor interesting.

"Aniki?" Erza looked up. "Don't you think you're being a lil hard on him?"

He looked at her. "What?"

"He hasn't really done actually anything _wrong_ yet, aside from lacking a little tact."

A frustrated sigh escaped him. Despite the way it went, and how the whole thing still rankled him, she had a point. "Look, Ron, I'm sorry about snapping. Just...all this scar is is just a reminder that I've been an orphan since I was just over a year old. And my first interaction with the magical world is a bartender I've never met somehow knowing exactly who I am…followed by the whole damn bar swarming me like we're all old mates. Getting yanked, shoved, and nearly smacked around because some idiot wants to pat your back or shake your hand - regardless of if YOU want to - doesn't endear me to people like that."

"Oh...well...can't really blame you for that. I'm the second youngest out of seven kids, so you take privacy whenever you can at my house." He grimaced a little "Then pray it's more than a few minutes."

Harry gave a slight nod. He could accept that. The two sat in a somewhat easy silence before a lady came up with a trolly full of candy and things. "Something from the cart, dears?" She asked.

"I'm good..." Ron replied, sounding unenthused as he took out a bag holding two thick corned beef sandwiches, adding in a low tone, "_Mum knows I hate corned beef…!_"

"I don't really have much of a sweet tooth." Harry replied. "But…" He quickly took out a small stack of galleons, eyeing the meat eagery. "Ron, I'll trade you."

* * *

A quick exchange, and a sizable purchase later, and Harry was happily chowing down on sandwich while Ron had a mouthful of chocolate frog. "Hungry too?" He asked Erza, seeing her staring at the sandwich.

Ron paused mid-bite when he saw Harry tear off a section of sandwich before handing it to a mothwinged fairy that'd emerged from his pocket. "I thought fairies were all vegetarians." He said, looking more than a little surprised at how eagerly she was munching away. "And why do you have a fairy anyway?"

"This is Erza. She's my familiar." Harry held up a hand at the next obvious question. "It's a long story."

"All right…" Ron honestly looked a little impressed at how quickly she devoured it. "All I got is Scabbers." He pulled out a scraggly-looking rat from his pocket. "Got him from my brother Percy when he made prefect and my parents gave him a new owl. Two of my other brothers taught me a spell to change his color..."

He was cut off when the door opened again, this time a busty-haired brunette looked in. "Have either of you seen a-"

"Is knocking too much to ask!?" Harry cut her off, standing up as he did. "Seriously! There's a thing called manners!"

Between his aggravated glare and the way he somewhat loomed over her, the girl let out a startled squeak. "S-sorry!" She yelped, quickly slamming the door closed.

A few seconds later, there was a hesitant knocking. Harry quietly opened it. "Um…'h-have either of you seen a toad?" She looked behind her. "Neville…! Get over here!" After the mentioned person apparently refused to get closer, she sighed. "He's lost his and we were hoping someone found it."

Harry hook his head. "Not here."

"I haven't seen any toads." Ron added.

"Oh, r-right. Well…" She quickly pulled 'Neville' with her as she continued down the car.

"Blimey, Harry." Ron exhaled when he closed the door back. "You really aren't a fan of being barged in on."

"Name someone who-" He was once again cut off as the door was shoved open, followed by a familiar, and very unwelcome voice.

"I head Harry Potter was on this-YEEK!" Draco Malfoy shrieked when Harry whirled on him, the temperature dropping some.

"You again.." Harry glared at the obnoxious blonde. "Is 'knocking' an alien concept for magic users?" He growled. "**Or did your parent's just never bother teaching you bloody manners!?"**

Malfoy just made a noise comparable to a small rodent being trod on.

"Draco?" One of the boys flanking him...one that Harry recognized as the one he accidentally slugged...sniffed. "You shat yourself again?"

"That might've been me, Goyle." The other replied. "I believe it's time for an expeditious withdrawal." They both hoisted up the shaking blonde, and after offering a profuse apology for the interruption, crab-jogged back the way they came.

"Aniki, this mean we can finish eating?" Erza asked, looking back at the second sandwich longingly. "I'm still hungry."

While he had no clue what the fairy just said, Ronald Billius Weasley was well aware of one thing; '_Mental note; ALWAYS knock around Harry.'_


	12. Chapter 12

"All right you lot, we're nearly at Hogwarts! Hurry up and get your robes on!" One of the older students called out from the aisle. "Get a move on!"

"Say, Harry, which house you think you'll be in?" Ron asked as they made to change.

"House?"

"Yeah, there's four different houses at Hog-"

*RIIP!*

He paused at the sound of tearing fabric, along with a pair of sleeves landing on the seat beside him. "H-harry?" He blinked in confusion when he looked over. "Why'd you...?"

"I _hate_ sleeves." Harry muttered. "They're itchy, they catch on everything, and just bloody uncomfortable!"

"Uh, o-ok." Ron quickly let the subject drop. Seeing him angry at being barged in on was enough for one week.

* * *

Shortly after they finished getting changed, the train came to a stop at a small station where Hagrid was waiting for them all. "All right, First Years, follow me! All right there, Harry?"

"I'm fine Hagrid." He replied, ignoring the obnoxious kid who demanded to know how he knew the large man. Hagrid led them down to a dock where several small boats were moored in the waters of a huge lake.

"All aboard! No more than four to a boat!" He called out, watching as they grouped up and clambered into them. "Everyone ready? Cast off!" The boats all moved as one, slowly floating across.

Harry found himself sharing one with Ron, the brunette from earlier, and a chubby boy who apparently was this 'Neville' from earlier. The girl managed to say she was Hermione Granger before looking at Harry nervously. "Look, I'm sorry about snapping at you, but just barging in doesn't make a good first impression." He said.

"It..it's all right." She replied, relaxing a tad. "I wasn't thinking."

The four sailed in silence for a moment until Harry started sniffing the air. "Huh, that's weird." He looked around. "Anyone else getting a sudden craving for calamari?"

"What's 'calamari'?" Neville asked, causing Hermione to explain it.

"I am!" Erza chirped, peeking out of his pocket to sniff as well. "I never had seafood before!" However, that brought Hermione's attention as well, who instantly forgot about earlier and started peppering him with questions.

Meanwhile, as the boats floated by, a large, and strangely nervous-looking mollusk watched a particular boat going right above its head.

333333333

"Sugoi…" Erza squeaked when the huge castle came into view. "Aniki! This place is even bigger than the shrine I used to live near!"

"It is pretty impressive." Harry admitted. "Seems kind of overkill for a school, though."

After entering a vine shrouded cave entrance, the boats came to a stop at the foot of a flight of rock-hewn steps. Hagrid led them up, which proved to be a somewhat slow pace since the steps proved to be a little on the slick side. Thankfully no one fell. At the top, they were greeted by a pair of huge wooden doors that Hagrid gave several solid knocks on. A few moments later and one opened to reveal a stern looking old woman. "The first years, Professor." He said.

"Thank you, Hagrid." The woman gave them all a look over, but as soon she spied Harry, her expression turned into something like Petunia the time she saw a guy with a braided beard.

'_What's her problem?' _He thought, looking back at the unabashed outrage she seemed to be feeling...for some bizarre reason. He found himself getting a flashback to one old lady during his stay at the cauldron. She'd gotten salty at him for not looking like his dad; a reason he didn't hesitate to call her an idiot for. Sure, he remembered what his parents looked like, but so what if he didn't need glasses, or his hair was shoulder length and on the shaggy side? It wasn't their damn business.

"Young man...why are your robes missing sleeves?" She asked in a rather demanding tone.

'_Is that why she's getting a bug up her skirt at me?' _Harry shrugged. "I hate sleeves. They're never comfortable."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. '_Of all the impertinent…very well. He'll be singing a different tune when he gets something unpleasant spilled on him.'_ She cleared her throat and went into an introductory speech about the houses they were going to be sorted into, as well as the house points. She then told them to wait there until the doors were opened.

"The Baa-chan doesn't seem to like you, Aniki." Erza commented, peeking around.

"_I noticed._" He whispered, not sure if he liked the woman either.

After a moment, the doors slowly opened to reveal a huge dining hall. They were funneled into the room between four long tables where the older students watched them like they were an exhibit. Harry narrowed his eyes at a few who looked like they were guessing which were gonna be the easiest targets. He made a mental list of who might be frequent three-strikers, especially a pair of redheads who bore an uncanny resemblance to Ron. The way they were gleefully whispering to each other and pointing didn't help.

Once they reached the table where the teachers were all seated, McGonagall stepped up carrying a small stool and a tattered old hat. "When I call your name, you will come up and be sorted." She set the hat and stool down. Soon as she did, a rip in the hat formed…

And it started singing.

"A hat?" Ron muttered indignantly. "I'm going to kill Fred and George! Those gits kept saying I'd have to wrestle a bloody troll!"

Erza looked rather unimpressed at the hat. "That's it? Courage, loyalty, cunning and smarts? Sounds more like typecasting to me." She muttered, after it was done and everyone gave a polite clap.

McGonagall then started going down the list. "Abbot, Hannah!"

The girl in question sat down and the hat was put on her head. A few seconds later it called out "Hufflepuff!" The group in question applauded as she headed over. This happened for each student. Hermione and Neville got sent to Gryffindor while the Malfoy kid had the hat barely touch him before it yelled "Slytherin!" The smug grin he had as he forced himself in between the two guys he was with before was rather eye-rolling.

"Potter, Harry!" The old woman's eyes widened and she sputtered in surprise and confusion when the sleeveless hooligan stepped up.

Several students seemed to share her reaction.

"THAT'S Potter!?"

"How's he a firstie!?"

"Kinda scary looking…"

"That a new robe style-Merlin, look at those arms!"

Ignoring the less than subtle comments, he made his way up and took a seat.

'_Never tickle a sleeping dragon, indeed.'_ Dumbledore thought, noting the way young Harry carried himself…

"FECKING HELL!"


	13. Chapter 13

It wasn't often that the great hall went completely silent. Usually it'd be the seconds before the headmaster made an announcement, or the moments when sleepy students first entered for breakfast.

Those two words from the sorting hat were more than enough to have that happen.

"NOPE!" The sentient headpiece yelped, leaping off Harry's head.

"I didn't know Alister could move like that." Dumbledore mused, watching the hat literally hopping away.

"Nope! Nopenopenope! Absolutely not!" Alister yelled with each hop, before McGonagall managed to catch him. "Don't you dare!" He protested as she moved to put him back on.

"Really now!" She glared at how the hat was acting. "This is your job!"

"You didn't see what was in his head! It looked at me like I was a bloody dinner napkin!" He flailed helplessly in her grip, his brim slapping away at her hand. "A mouth like that is most assuredly NOT meant to smile!"

"What's his problem?" Harry asked, giving the protesting hat a perplexed look.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Alister shrieked as McGonagall started to put him back on the boy's head. "YOU can deal with him, woman!"

The hall was again dead silent before Dumbledore coughed. "Yes, perhaps we should continue with the sorting. Mr. Potter, please take a seat at your assigned table."

Harry stood up, barely taking one step before wheeling around. "Wait, you Albus Dumbledore?" He ignored the indignant sputtering from McGonagall as well as several other students.

"I am...and Hagrid informed me about your...displeasure at learning about your vault key. However, I assure you that-"

"I. Don't. Care." He cut the old man off. "The fact is you kept a vault key for over ten years and never even had the decency to inform its _rightful owner_, namely **me**, that you had it. Or even _ask_ to hold onto it. As for 'displeasure', try 'pissed'; did my parents know you had it?"

"Well…" Albus tried to think of a positive way to phrase his answer, that he'd had Hagrid retrieve it along with baby Harry to keep it from any of Voldemort's followers. But, how do you admit to that without sounding like a thief? He sighed, knowing he'd probably hate himself later for the tactic. "How would you have handled it in my place, Harry? A youngster, just orphaned, that would be hunted by everyone in the wizarding world for one reason or another with his only protection being anonymity protection, and an inheritance that was impossible to hide. What would you have done?"

Harry was silent. He didn't really have an answer, to be honest. He'd been in the wizarding world for just a couple of months, so he didn't really didn't know enough about it to respond. A part of him growled in anger, feeling cheated out of something it felt it deserved to be mad about.

Dumbledore spoke up again. "I apologize, and honestly I don't blame you for feeling offended at what I did, but I say with the utmost sincerity that I only did what felt the best course of action, and would happily discuss it at a later date. For now, though, there are other students to sort, and no one can eat until everyone is seated"

Harry stared at him, not saying anything, before turning back and heading to the Gryffindor table.

'_Hopefully that will let his frustration settle in the meantime. And let me figure out an appropriate way to smooth things over.' _Dumbledore thought, remembering one of the rules about dragons he learned during his time as a student. "_Dragons do not suffer thieves lightly._"

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"Harry! What in the world got into you!?" Hermione demanded the moment he'd sat down. "You don't just talk to one of the greatest wizards in the world like _that_! How could you be so rude and disrespect-MMF!" She was cut off by Harry's hand wrapping over her mouth, then the same annoyed glare he'd given her on the train took the wind out of her..

"Like I told him; don't care. Greatest whatever or not, I do NOT appreciate learning that something that belongs to me was being kept from me like that. Especially when I wasn't even given so much as a notice. And as far as respect, he gives me a reason to, and _then_ I'll respect him."

He'd barely managed to let her go when an older redhead, who's face indicated that he had a gardening trowel wedged somewhere tender, had a finger in his face. "You just lost Gryffindor fifteen points for that act, Potter!"

"What's all the racket!?" Erza demanded, peeking out from Harry's pocket, much to the surprise of those around. "I was trying to take a quick nap!"

"H-Harry!" Hermione squeaked. "Is that a real….fairy!?"

She must've liked fairies a lot, since her eyes were damn near sparkly. He leaned away from her a bit. "Not quite; she's…"

"What are you doing with a fairy, Potter!? Fairies are not on the approved pet list! Hand it over!" The orange beanpole held out his hand.

"Ok, first; who the hell are you? Second, what 'points' are you blathering about? And third…" Harry slowly dragged his nails over the table, gouging out four long lines, "HER name is Erza, and she is my familiar. Touch her and I'll forcefeed you your own testicles."

"My name is Percival Weasley, and I am the Gryffindor Prefect!" He stated, a little too pompously for Harry's taste. "Unless you wish the first issued detention of the year-"

"Weasley." Another boy spoke up, wearing robes with a blue trim on them. It was then that Harry noticed the Gryffindor kids all had red trim on theirs. "Even you know the house points don't start until tomorrow when classes begin. And the 'permitted familiars' list is a _recommendation_, not an iron-clad rule." Glancing at the gouges, he quickly leaned in. "Next time, think before you try and throw your weight around! Otherwise you really will need something reattached." The boy took a quick look at the teachers before pulling out his wand, disguising it as adjusting his robes. "_Reparo._" He whispered.

"_Ok, that could come in handy_." Harry watched the gouges slowly close up, leaving unblemished wood. "Have to remember that one."

"Hey, what was all the hubbub over here?" Ron asked as she sat down on the other side of Harry, watching Percy get pushed back over to his seat.

"He tried to confiscate Harry's..familiar..?" Hermione quickly snapped back to reality. "How'd you get a fairy familiar!?" She squeed.

"Found her in the bargain bin." He replied, smirking when Erza squawked indignantly.

"Anaki! Not funny!" She pouted, her cheeks puffing out.

"Well, I did get you for free technically." He skritched her head in a spot that made her let out a cute little squeak, causing Hermione, and a couple other girls that heard it to let out 'aaww's before Dumbledore spoke up.

"I have one thing to say before the welcoming feast begins; nitwit, oddment, blubber, tweak!" He chuckled a little when the food appeared, surprising the first years. '_Bless their hearts, they never remember that I say the same thing every year. And it never gets old!'_

The moment his eyes landed on the platters of chicken breast, pork cutlets, and smoked sausage, his stomach gave a convincing argument to put everything aside for a plate...or three.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had just settled into his own meal when he heard Minerva muttering to herself. He didn't catch all of it, but one sentence reached him…

"James and Lily would be turning in their graves learning what their child's become!" She grumbled, much to his surprise.

'_Oh...oh bollocks.'_ He thought, hoping no one saw him pale lightly. '_I KNEW there was something I meant to tell her about!'_


End file.
